Superwholock Boarding School
by timelords-have-the-impala
Summary: Title pretty much sums it up. ;) Characters: Dean, Sam, Cas, Doctor, Sherlock, and John


"Sammy! Hurry up or we're gunna be freaking late!" Dean yelled behind him to a struggling twelve year old Sam with a gigantic brown leather suitcase.

"I'm going as fast as I can Dean, it's not **my** fault you wanted to take all the clothes," he whined, jumping ahead to catch up to his older brother.

They continued making their way inside the boarding school. As they opened the door they were greeted with a gush of cold air. It felt refreshing on the sunny September morning.

Dean walked up to the desk, "Uhh... Sam and Dean Winchester." The lady looked up and smiled. "Down your hall to the right, room 222 and 223," she responded, looked down at her laptop, and continued typing. "Thank you."

"Alright, Sammy." Dean sighed as they reached Sam's 223 room. "Want me to walk you in?"

Sam nodded a nervous _yes_ and tugged his suit case inside the door. His room mate was already inside, unpacking his own belongings. When the two brothers walked in he looked up.

"Ello, you must be Sam, my room mate." Sam nodded in response, but before he could say something Dean piped, "I'm Dean, Sammy's older brother," slapping Sam's back protectively.

"Now who are **you**, bowtie?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor...Doctor Who?" Sam asked as Dean tilted his head in puzzlement.

The Doctor chuckled to himself, "If I had a penny for every time someone asked me that I'd have enough money to buy a car. Which is why I'm here by the way, I stole a car? She was a beauty, was shiny blue. I named her the TARDIS." he turned back to his suitcase and continued his unpacking.

"Well, I'm going to head to my room. Nice meeting you... Doctor," the name felt uncomfortable on his tongue. He pulled shrimpy Sam into a hug and Sam buried his head into Dean's three sizes too big brown leather jacket. "Stay Strong." Dean mumbled in his ear. "Mom would've wanted this."

"I'm going to drop you off here Sherlock, are you okay walking in by yourself?" Mycroft, Sherlock's older brother asked in the review mirror.

No response.

To his much annoyance he spoke again, "Sherlock!"

"**What**, Mycroft?" Sherlock shouted, loosing his train of thought.

"Are you okay walking in from here? They have a now guardian entering policy." Mycroft repeated dumbfounded.

"Of course." Sherlock murmured, opening the car door and trudging out. "No scenes, Sherlock." Mycroft whispered as he handed his younger brother his duffle back. "It's not my fault everyone else is an idiot," he shrugged back. "Sherlock! Please... will you just behave?"

"Doubt it."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Short, sad looking Castiel pulled forcefully on his blue and grey checkered suitcase. His blue, glassy eyes glued to the hot, sticky pavement in the warm September morning.

The boarding school was at least 10 minutes from his house and he'd rather walk and watch the bees then have his parents or countless siblings drive him to this jailhouse.

When he reached the door he pulled it open and trudged in.

Him, like everyone else hated being here.

But his father told him as soon as he battled his depression he could return home to his already screwed up family. His mother died during his birth and his father is always at his office writing or talking on the phone. It was usually just him and his siblings

"Castiel Novak." he whispered, tugging on his tan trench coat.

"Room 222" she smiled, "Down the hall to the right." Castiel took in a huge breath of air and continued staggering. He stopped in front of his door and pushed it open.

Good, he was the first one in there.

He picked the bed next to the window so he could watch the birds and the bees fly by. He heaved his suitcase on his bed but didn't unzip it open. He stared out the window.

Two dragonflies dove by as a bird swooped into a near by tree. They seem so peaceful and free, meanwhile he was stuck in here.

He could hear the creak of the door open and a sixteen year old looking kid slid in, a backpack over his shoulder.

He was wearing a brown leather jacket which looked huge on him, he had Fanfiction green eyes and his dirty blonde hair was spiked up. Castiel gave him a full once-over. _Jock_, he concluded.

"So, I guess you're my roommate," he said, throwing his backpack on the floor, then holding out his hand. Castiel stared blankly at it, a dazed look in his piercing blue eyes.

"Okay..." Dean whispered, awkwardly removing his hand and jabbing it in his pocket.

"I'm Dean Winchester. I like pie and romantic walks on the beach, but **no** chick flick moments," he smiled perkily and shrugged of his jacket.

"Castiel." he whispered. "Castiel, huh? Interesting name."

No reply.

"You're not much of a talker, are ya?"

"I talk when I feel the need to," he whispered.

"We'll listen, Cas-"

"_Cas_?"

"Yeah, ya know, a little nickname for you."

"Oh."

On the outside he probably looked like a sensitive idiot, but on the inside he was blossoming with acceptance. Maybe Dean was actually a shot at a **real** friendship. Something he had never experienced before.

"John, look at me when I'm talking to you!"  
"Whaa...oh, huh." he snapped out of his day dream of war.

"Keep your grades up, stay out of partying, no drugs, and make sure you stay in activities."

"Yes ma'am." John replied, keeping his eyes glued to his mother.

"I'll pick you up in June. Big kiss!"

"Moooommmm!" John whined, pulling away.

He grabbed his messenger bag and suitcase. "Bye, Mom." he waved and walked in the doors.

"John Watson." he said to the smiling lady at the desk.

"Room _221_, down the hall to the right." she turned back in the wheely chair.

He walked down the hallway and pushed the black door open.

Their was a curly dark haired boy wearing a black trench coat.

"Ahh... you must be John Watson."

"Erm, yes. And your..."

"Sherlock Holmes. Highly functional sociopath."


End file.
